


Time and Chances

by Tori_Scribbles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agent Carter References, Alternate Timelines, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Steve Goes Back To Rescue Bucky and Fix Everything, Time Travel, eventual OT3, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tori_Scribbles/pseuds/Tori_Scribbles
Summary: Endgame Spoilers!..Is leaving everything behind to create an alternate timeline worth it? If it means saving the ones he loves, then to Steve, it's worth everything.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So... Endgame.  
> The prologue starts right before Steve leaves at the end of Endgame and the rest... well, I guess that's history! I will add to the tags as I go with this because I'm not totally sure where it's gonna go yet, we'll see. Content Warnings will be at the beginning of chapters because ya know... Hydra is shitty.  
> Shoutout to [TasteOfDreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasteofdreams/pseuds/tasteofdreams) for screaming this into existence with me!  
> The prologue is tiny, I know, the chapters will be much longer don't worry!  
> So yeah...

Steve glanced up as the locker room door opened.

“Hey,” he said, going back to tying his laces as Bucky stepped inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see him lean back against a row of lockers, watching as Steve adjusted his suit in silence.

Steve tightened the final fastening, trying to consider his words carefully, but it didn’t matter how he worded it, nothing sounded right.

“Don’t come back for me.”

Steve’s head shot up.

Bucky was watching him, a careful expression on his face. He was leaning back against Scott’s locker, his hands tucked between the small of his back and the metal.

“If you want to go back, you should go,” Bucky said, his voice soft. “Don’t think you have to come back. We’ll figure it out. But after everything you’ve done, you deserve that life, with her.”

“Buck-” Steve swallowed thickly, his chest tightening. As much as he yearned for that life with Peggy, the thought of leaving Bucky behind after everything… “You could come too. There’s enough-”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “The 1940s isn’t the place for me any more. But this isn’t the place for you. It never has been.”

“What’ll you do?” Steve asked.

Bucky raised his shoulder in a slight shrug, his lips quirking slightly. “Someone’s gotta keep Sam from running headfirst into every fight going.”

They both laughed slightly. “You’ve had practice at that,” Steve said.

“Just a bit.” Bucky’s smile faded slightly, and he got a faraway look in his eyes like he did whenever he remembered the past. “Besides, I think one of me did enough damage to the twentieth century, don’t you?”

Steve wanted to reach out, but he didn’t want to startle him from whatever memory he was lost in. “If I go back it’ll alter the timeline, create a new one. That means I can fix things. Not just Peggy. I can fix SHIELD, I can find you sooner, bring you home...”

Bucky looked up and met his gaze. His eyes shining. “Steve...” He almost seemed lost for words before he shook his head, pushing away from the locker with a slight scoff. “You never have known how to live the quiet life, why should you start now?”

Steve gave a slightly wet laugh as Bucky pulled him in for a hug and he let himself sink into his arms. If everything went well, then he wouldn’t see _this_ Bucky for decades. If it didn’t… then at least he’d have died trying to put things right. And to him, a chance for any version of them to get away from the tortures of Hydra was worth it.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world lurched around him as he was dragged through the Quantum Realm once again, and when his feet hit the floor and the suit collapsed itself, he felt as though he could breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't expect updates this fast all the time, but the first one was barely a chapter so... this makes up for it.

Steve stared down at the two vials in his hand, one for a trip home and one in case of emergencies. But there weren’t any emergencies, all of the stones were back to their rightful places, so now was the time.

Peggy’s voice echoed in his ears from all those years ago.

“ _Eight o’clock. Don’t you dare be late.”_

Well, he was only going to be eighty-three years late and a day early.

He put the date and location into the navigator and pressed the button.

The world lurched around him as he was dragged through the Quantum Realm once again, and when his feet hit the floor and the suit collapsed itself, he felt as though he could breathe again.

Although he’d landed in some back alley, he knew without looking that he was home. The world was so quiet, the traffic he could hear was sparser and the engines purred at a different tempo to twenty-first century ones. The air smelt clearer, the layer of exhaust fumes thinner.

He stepped out onto the street, thankful that he’d had the foresight to pick up some civilian clothes before coming back they weren’t particularly era-appropriate, but slacks, a t-shirt and jacket was a lot less conspicuous than either of the suits he’d originally travelled in. He stood at the edge of the sidewalk and took a second to take in the street. It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago that he was last here. But it was just as he remembered. It turned out he was a couple of blocks away from where he’d grown up, he’d once been beaten up in the very alleyway he’d just landed in.

Dames walked past with their hair in rolls and lips painted red.

Teenage boys walked with their heads held high and an arrogance in their stride that only teenage boys could achieve.

Steve ducked across the street to a newspaper stand and swiped one off the top of the pile.

_June 16 th, 1946_

Shit.

He looked down at the time navigator. The date on the screen read February, 1945 and yet here he was, standing in June, 1946. After all the jumps he’d done recently, and the fight he’d gotten into in 2014 it must have damaged the device in some way.

Disappointment twisted in his gut.

He was late.

Again.

It had been a year and four months since he’d crashed the Valkyrie. He had no idea where Peggy would be now, Bucky would’ve been with Hydra for a year now and Steve was stuck here.

Anger bubbled inside of him, his fingers curling around the newspaper tightly. He’d been given another chance and it had already been fucked up.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to uncurl his hand from around the paper as he looked down at the front page.

_Howard Stark Back In The Spotlight After Name Cleared!_

Steve scanned through the article, vaguely remembering Tony saying something about Howard being framed for some Soviet arms deal but he’d never really gone into much detail, only saying that Aunt Peggy had got him off the hook, and if that had just happened, then it meant they were still in touch. So the easiest way to find Peggy would be through Howard

He set the newspaper back down and headed down the familiar streets. Before he could track down Howard, or Peggy there were some people who he had to see.

-oOo-

Steve knocked on the door and stepped back. He could hear someone shuffling about inside and his breath caught in his throat as he heard a familiar voice shout out from inside.

“Becca! Get the door will ya!”

“I’m gettin’ it! I’m gettin’ it!”

The door was pulled open and Steve felt his heart skip.

Rebecca Barnes looked up at him and froze. Her mouth dropped open in shock but no sound came out as she just stared at him for several seconds. Then, without warming, she threw herself out of the house and into his arms with a soft cry and Steve caught her with ease. Curling his arms around his little sister as tears started to fall.

“How are you here?” she asked against his shoulder after a minute.

“It’s a long story,” he replied, setting her back on her feet. Finally taking a minute to look at her. Her hair was longer than it used to be, no longer braided, but now pinned up in a more adult style but she was the same. The same blue eyes, the same button nose and sharp chin. He brushed her tears away with his knuckle and smiled sadly. “You’re so grown up.”

“I’m nineteen,” she said with a slight shrug. “You’re so tall.”

Steve gave a slightly choked laugh. It had been a while since anybody had been so surprised at that. “Taller than you now at least.”

Fifteen-year-old Rebecca would have pouted and scowled at that, but now she just smiled. “It had to happen eventually,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “Come on, everyone will want to see you.”

She pulled him inside and his heart clenched at how familiar it was. He toed off his shoes on autopilot at the door, nudging them next to the others as Becca yelled out for everybody to come and see who it was as she dragged him through into the living room. His eyes fell onto the fireplace. Sat on the mantlepiece in pride of place was a photo from years ago. It was one that the PR teams had taken of him and Bucky during what little downtime they got.

They were in their army uniforms, Bucky’s hat crooked as ever, sat on the back of an open truck, laughing at something stupid Dum Dum had done earlier. Bucky had yelled at the reporter who had taken the picture and ruined their moment, demanding that he see the picture before it went anywhere and when the cameraman handed it over, Bucky had just tucked it in his jacket and thanked the man on behalf of his Ma and they’d carried on their conversation.

Steve never knew that he’d actually sent it home, he thought Bucky had just taken it because he was annoyed at constantly having cameras shoved in his face. But there it was, framed on the Barnes’ mantle all that time later.

“Becca, what’re you hollering about? I was just-”

Steve looked up as Winnie’s voice broke off. She stood in the doorway, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Her hair had greyed more over the years but aside from that, she hadn’t aged a day.

“Oh, Steve...” she said, crossing the room in a stride to pull him down into his arms. “Thank the Lord.”

“Where’s George?” Steve asked as he let her give him a once-over.

“He’s at work,” Becca said. “He’ll be so glad you’re home.”

“I need to speak to you all,” Steve said with a slight shake of his head “It’s important. It’s about Bucky.”

Winne’s face crumpled slightly but she didn’t let go of his hands.

“What about him?” Becca asked, her voice wavering despite the steel in her eyes.

Steve shook his head slightly. “You all need to be here,” he said.

“The girls are still at school,” Winnie said a little absently, like the mention of her son’s name had thrown her train of thought off course.

“Just you, George and Becca,” he said.

Becca met his gaze and nodded. “I’ll call,” she said before ducking out into the kitchen.

“How’re you here?” Winnie asked, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “They told us they lost you both. We got the telegrams and then when the war ended, a woman came and told us what happened to you.”

Steve frowned. “What woman?”

“The one you both wrote about. Peggy,” she said, “she gave us your things and said you saved the world.”

He gave a sad smile. “We tried,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she said softly, “all that matters is you’re home.”

Becca came back in, a tray of coffee’s balanced in the crook of her elbow with ease. “Do you still take it black?” she asked, “or did your coffee tastes change when you grew a foot and a half?”

“Still the same,” Steve said with an amused smile. “Thanks.”

“He’s on his way home,” she said, setting the tray on the coffee table. “He didn’t quite believe me on the phone, kept saying he was hearing me wrong.”

“He didn’t take losing you boys too well,” Winnie said, guiding Steve into a chair, pressing his coffee into his hands. “None of us did.”

“I’m sorry it took so long to get back,” Steve said. “My-uh, transport was delayed.”

Winne shook her head. “None of that matters now you’re home,” she said. “Oh, Betty will be so thrilled. She’s nine now and she tells everybody all the time that her big brother’s saved the world. Bella doesn’t remember but Betty makes sure she knows every day.”

Steve’s heart ached as he thought about the girls. Betty was born right before the war broke out and Winnie and George were told they couldn’t have more children and yet on New Year’s Day, 1943 Bella was born and was as they called her, their miracle.

Bucky got his orders six months later and never saw her again. Now, she’d be three years old with no real memories of her big brother. She wouldn’t remember seeing his face, or hearing the sound of his voice and if history played its course, she never would. But now Steve could bring him home and Bella could finally meet her brother.

“What’re they like?” Steve found himself asking and Winnie smiled and told him all about them. Betty had matured a lot after Bucky died, he’d always been her favourite sibling, but she talked about him whenever she missed him – which was a lot – and she was proud of him. Bella was a bundle of energy, she wanted to try everything and do everything. She liked sports, art, science, cars, books and anything else she could get her hands on. Every week she had a new hobby and four new friends.

Winnie was halfway through telling Steve about how Bella has a tendency to veer into book stores when the sound of the front door opening broke her off.

“Winn? Becca?” the low but unmistakable voice of George Barnes called out.

Steve set his coffee cup to the side and rose to his feet as George came in. Whatever the older man was about to say died on his lips, and was replaced instead with a string of curses as he crossed the room to embrace Steve.

“Becca said-but I-how are you alive?” he said as they stepped apart.

“I can’t- it’s classified,” Steve said, not wanting to explain the ins and outs of time travel and the future end of the world. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he pushed when it looked as though they were going to press him for answers. “It’s about Bucky.”

The atmosphere in the room sobered instantly and he had their undivided attention.

“You should sit down,” he said to George, who stepped back to his chair without looking away from Steve, his face ashen and eyes wide with fear.

“What is it?” Winnie asked, her hand resting over her heart.

“When he-- when he fell, Buck, he lost his arm. Soviet soldiers found him at the bottom of the ravine. They have him. And he’s alive.”

Winnie gave a sound somewhere between a sob and a gasp, turning into George’s chest. Becca just stared at him, her eyes defiant, not wanting to get her hopes up.

“How do you know?” she asked, her voice trembling but her tone was firm.

“It’s classified,” he said again. “And we don’t know exactly where he is, but we just know he’s alive.”

“What makes you so sure? Have you seen him?”

“Becca...” George tried softly but Steve shook his head.

“All I can tell you is we have the location of several Hydra bases and he’s going to be at one of them,” he said. “The people we used to work with, Peggy, she doesn’t know I’m alive yet. But when she does, we’re going to go and find him.”

“And what if he’s not? At one of the bases you know about?” she pressed.

“Then we’ll keep looking until we find the one he’s at.”

-oOo-

The Barnes’ refused to hear of him finding a hotel for the night, so instead, they set him up in Bucky’s old room with some of his old clothes. When Betty and Bella got home, they had to explain Steve’s return and Betty had only left his side after she was forced to go to bed.

Steve laid in bed, listening to the house fall silent around him. He couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. His body was buzzing with nervous energy. Tomorrow he had to find Peggy and to do that he would probably have to track down Howard and then he had to not only explain the outlandish story of the past thirteen years, he had to convince them that they were accidentally going to help grow a terrorist organisation and finding Bucky was the key to stopping it.

The old clock in the hallway chimed for three am and he pushed himself out of bed, his body aching with more fatigue than it had been several hours ago. He pulled one of Bucky’s old sweaters over his head, it was too small, but the scratchy material stretched across his chest without splitting. He crept across the house, careful to avoid the creaking floorboards and padded into the kitchen, surprised to see a hunched over figure hiding under a blanket already sat at the kitchen table.

“Bec?” he said softly, trying not to startle her but she flinched upwards anyway, her face tear-stricken and nose red.

She sniffed loudly, turning into the blanket to try and dry her eyes. “I didn’t know anyone else was up,” she said kind of pathetically and Steve moved to the fridge on autopilot, pulling out a bottle of milk on his way to the stove.

Neither of them said a word, Becca just watched in silence, with the occasional sniffle as Steve made hot chocolate.

It was something Bucky used to do. Whenever Steve was ill, or his sisters were upset, he’d make hot chocolate. Whenever Wanda was having a rough night, he’d do the same for her, although he always said twenty-first century hot chocolate just wasn’t the same.

He set a mug in front of Becca and she gave a soft thanks, cupping the drink close to her with blanket covers hands.

“Wanna talk about it?” he said, his quiet voice seeming to carry in the silence of the night.

She shook her head, eyes fixed on the coils of steam rising up through the air. “How are you alive?” she asked, finally looking up at him.

“The serum makes me harder to kill,” he said simply, “I froze but… I didn’t die.”

“And Bucky? He fell off a train, hundreds of feet into a ravine. How can he still be alive?”

Steve hesitated. After Zola it was rarely spoken about that Bucky had the serum, Bucky told Steve about the experiments once after he’d woken up screaming, but the others didn’t need to be told. They were there. But Phillips, even Howard, though might have had their suspicions, were never told. Not only because they didn’t particularly need to know, but because it was safer.

“Buck- he was different after he was taken,” he said carefully. “I can’t--”

“It’s classified,” Becca said distastefully. “Yeah, yeah.” Silence hung between them again, the only sound was the heavy ticking of the clock before she spoke again, her voice softer than before. “You’re different too, ya know? Not just bigger.”

“A lot’s happened...” he trailed off, looking down at the mug between his hands considerably.

She was right.

For her it had been a year since he crashed the Valkyrie, for him it had been thirteen.

He’d seen the future and fought wars. He’d loved people and lost them. He’d seen legacies break and the world end.

But he couldn’t tell her that and despite her curious look, she didn’t press him further.

“You said before that you needed to find Peggy to find Bucky,” she said. “I don’t know where she is, but Howard Stark’s butler brings us a check every few months. Ma and Pa tried to tell him we didn’t want charity but… he refuses to take it back. All we have is a card, he said if we ever need anything, then you and Bucky paid for it a hundred times over.”

Steve smiled slightly, that sounded like the sort of thing Howard would do. “You have a number?”

Becca nodded, reaching back into one of the drawers, coming back with a business card she passed it across to him, written on it was the well-known address of the Stark Mansion and a phone number.

“Even though Stark is on the run, everyone is saying Mr Jarvis knows where he is,” she said.

“I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow,” Steve said, laying the card on the table. “He’ll probably know where to find Peggy.”

Becca’s face softened into a smile. “Will you tell me about her? Bucky used to write about her, said you were sweet on her.”

Steve couldn’t help the way heat flushed through his cheeks, he never thought Bucky would write home about it, about them. He smiled softly as he remembered the three of them in the bar. “So was he,” he said.

“He was sweet on everyone,” she said, her eyes lingering on Steve. “Do you love her?”

Steve nodded, meeting her eyes sincerely. “I do.”

Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “You love her like you love Buck?”

A heartbeat passed and Steve smiled back, safe with Becca. “I do.”

Her smile grew. “Then let’s find Peggy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated ♥


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh, I'm sorry this took so long. My health has been a little bit of a mess over the last few weeks to say the least. Thank you for your patience!   
> Also yes, I gave all of the Barnes children 'B' nicknames, fight me!

The next morning the house was alive and buzzing with busy energy that only a family could create, as George and Winnie were both getting ready for work and Becca was taking Betty and Bella to the park for the morning. After several goodbyes and many reassurances that he’d be back in the morning, Steve headed out. He hailed a cab down on the outskirts of Brooklyn and watched the city pass by. Everything seemed so small and dark without the looming glass skyscrapers.

What little traffic there was seemed to clear up as they headed upstate and Steve thought it was the quickest he’d ever gotten to the Stark Mansion before. The cab driver gave him a weird look as he pulled up to the gate but accepted the tip gratefully.

Steve stood in front of the gates for a minute, waiting for the cab to pull away before he let himself in, wandering around the side to the Jarvis residence.

He knocked on the door and waited, of all the times he’d been here, never once had Tony allowed them to this house.

The door opened and a small lady with fiery red hair opened the door, she looked up at Steve and faltered, her smile sliding off of her face.

“Oh, my...” she said, her voice accented then turned over her shoulder. “Edwin, dear, I think you better come to the door.”

“If it’s those blasted SSR Agents again then you can tell them- oh.” A man that Steve recognised from almost all of Tony’s childhood photo’s came to the door and stopped dead, his mouth open in shock.

“Do forgive us, Captain, we weren’t expecting you,” Mrs Jarvis said, her voice light, like this didn’t phase her at all, “why don’t you come inside and Edwin can put the kettle on while you tell us what you came to tell us.”

Mr Jarvis seemed to snap out of his shock at her words and nodded. “Right. Yes. Tea. Come in.”

“Thank you.” Steve stepped inside. “I’m Steve Rogers,” he said, although they seemed to already know who he was.

“Yes, you are,” Mr Jarvis said. “Mr Stark has been looking for you for quite some time now. Where are my manners, I’m Edwin Jarvis, Mr Stark’s butler, most people call me Jarvis, and this is my wife, Ana.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Steve said, following them into their kitchen, taking a seat at the table when Jarvis gestured to it. “I’m sorry for just turning up unannounced but I need to get hold of a mutual friend of Howard and I’s.”

“It’s no trouble,” Ana said, preparing a pot of tea as Jarvis laid the cups out. “Who were you trying to contact?”

“Peggy Carter at the SSR or maybe even the 107th Unit?” he asked.

Jarvis’ head shot up at Peggy’s name and Steve’s heart hammered hopefully. “As it happens, I saw Miss Carter just last night,” he said, “we worked closely together to clear Mr Stark’s name. She’s staying in a house of his.”

Steve let out a slight sigh of relief. He had come to the right place. “She doesn’t know I’m alive. Could you tell me where to find her? The SSR office?”

“I know both,” Jarvis said, setting the tray of tea’s on the table, pulling out Ana’s chair for her to sit down before joining them himself. “But might I advice against a reunion at the SSR? It might draw attention.”

Steve nodded. “Would you be able to set up a meeting? I’d rather she found out in person than over the phone,” he said and Jarvis nodded.

“Understandable,” he said, “do you have a preference of meeting place? We’re rather fond of this little Automat in the city?”

Steve shook his head and gave Jarvis the address of a club in upper Brooklyn that Bucky used to drag him to. “For lunch, if possible,” he said.

Both Jarvis’ smiled.

“She’ll be delighted, I’m sure!” Ana said.

“I’ll make the arrangements immediately,” Jarvis said as he rose to his feet, moving out into the hall.

“Forgive my husbands nervousness,” Ana said, “he’s been a little out of sorts in Mr Stark’s absence. Since the charges have been dropped, Mr Stark has taken a vacation. Los Angeles, I believe.”

“Understandable,” Steve said, trying not to glance after him anxiously. “It couldn’t have been easy with him on the run like that.”

“It was not,” she said, “but it’s all cleared up now thanks to Miss Carter.”

Steve smiled softly. “Sounds like a hell of a story.”

There was a shuffling noise in the hallway and Jarvis came back in. “Miss Carter thinks she is meeting me for lunch. She’ll be there at one pm sharp,” he said.

“Thank you,” Steve said gratefully, the nervous energy rising up inside of him again.

“I’m sure Mr Stark wouldn’t mind if you borrowed a car for a while. Perhaps the Pontiac?” he suggested and Steve just smiled, trying to see how this uncertain man raised Tony Stark.

“That’d be great,” he said politely. “Thanks.”

Whilst Steve finished his tea, Mr Jarvis told him what had happened with Howard’s investigation and whenever he said something he shouldn’t, he would stumble over his words as Ana shot him an amused look. Once tea was finished, Steve stayed for a polite amount of time before accepting the car keys from Mr Jarvis and taking his leave.

He stopped at a florist a block away and as he stepped inside he realised he had no idea about what flowers were appropriate or not, so he let the girl behind the counter put something together and paid her gratefully. He glanced at his reflection in the shop window on his way out. Bucky’s old suit was fine as long as he didn’t try to do the jacket up or move his legs more than a foot apart, then he didn’t think the seams would hold. But he’d do. Peggy had seen him at 5 feet tall, jumping on a grenade, he doubted she’d care if he was wearing someone else's suit or not, but something inside of him felt softer knowing he had something of Bucky’s with him.

Despite his stop, he still got to the club a half an hour early, and so he took a seat at the bar, facing towards the door, kept his head low and ordered a bourbon, wishing not for the first time that the alcohol would take the edge off of his nerves. He felt like a fifteen year old waiting for their first date.

The clock behind the bar chimed on the hour as the club started to get busier with people wanting a drink on their lunch break. At three minutes past, the sound of heels on a wooden floor drew Steve’s attention upwards. Walking towards the other side of the bar in a navy blue pantsuit with and signature red lipstick was Peggy.

Her hair was in waves around her shoulders and despite the tired expression on her face, her head was held high.

The barman poured her a similar drink to Steve’s and she moved over to a table in the corner, glancing down at her watch impatiently.

Steve threw back the last of his drink, grabbed the bunch of flowers off the bar and moved towards her.

His shadow fell over her table, but she didn’t look up from the notebook she was scanning through.

“Mr Jarvis, why on Earth are we meeting in--”

She looked up. Her words faltered and the angry look slid off her face as she stared up at him for a moment.

“You’re late,” Steve said smartly. Because she was.

Peggy’s mouth snapped shut, hard enough that he heard her teeth click. “No,” she said and Steve faltered as she rose to her feet. “No. You can’t- you’re- are you-”

“I’m here, Peg,” he assured her softly. “It’s me.”

“Oh, Steve…” her voice broke and she crumpled.

Steve caught her halfway as she threw her arms around his neck and held on like she was scared he was going to disappear.

“We looked. We never stopped looking for you,” she said into the crook of his neck and Steve held her tighter.

“I know,” he said, not caring of the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

“How are you here? Did Howard-”

Steve pressed his lips against the top of her head. “It’s a long story,” he said, “that I can’t explain here.”

“I’m staying at one of Howard’s places,” she said going to pull away, her mascara smudged down her cheek. “We can talk there.”

“Wait,” Steve said, drawing her back as the band started a new song. “Just… will you dance with me?”

Peggy’s lips parted and her eyes softened as she reached back out to lace her fingers behind his neck. He set the flowers on the table and let his hands rest on her hips and they just swayed to the music, lost in each other’s eyes.

“Don’t let me wake up,” she said, her voice far away.

“You’re not dreaming, Peg,” he replied just as softly.

Peggy bit her lip like she was trying to stop herself crying before she smiled. “Oh, Steve...” she breathed again and it finally felt as though the agony of the past thirteen years was worth it.

As the song drew to an end, it took them a moment to step apart but Peggy slid her hand into the crook of his elbow as she collected her purse from the table.

“I got you these,” Steve said slight self-conscious as he held out the bouquet. “My Ma said you should always bring a dame flowers.”

Peggy smiled softly and took them. “They’re beautiful.”

The journey back to Howard’s building was quiet with just Peggy’s soft directions to break it, neither of them wanting to start an in-depth and difficult conversation in the car.

As they let themselves into the house, something close to awkwardness seemed to seep into the atmosphere between them as they hovered in the lounge. Peggy sighed, moving over to the bar in the corner and poured two glasses of scotch, she threw back one with ease and when Steve made no move to take the second, she drank that one too.

“Did Howard find you?” she asked finally.

“No, I haven’t seen him,” Steve said, “though I expect Mr Jarvis has told him I’m alive by now.”

“And Mr Jarvis is how you found me?”

“He told me you worked together.” He nodded.

“Then if Howard didn’t find you. How are you here?” she pressed.

“You might want to sit-”

“Just tell me, Steve!”

Steve sighed, sinking down into the nearest armchair, he ran a hand across his face tiredly. “It’s been thirteen years. For me, it’s been thirteen years.” He pulled the Time Navigator from his pocket and lay it on the table. “I came back in time.”

Peggy froze. Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it clearly wasn’t that. “Thirteen years… you travelled back thirteen years?”

“I travelled back eighty three years,” he corrected and Peggy hesitated for a moment before coming to sit on the couch opposite him. “In my timeline, I was in the water, in the ice, for sixty nine years. I woke up in 2012. The serum kept me from dying and I woke up there like no time had passed. I lived in the twenty-first century for thirteen years.”

“Time travel...” Peggy’s eyes were wide and Steve could see her trying to piece it all together. “Tell me everything?”

So he did.

He told her about different worlds.

Thor.

The Avengers.

Tony.

Loki and the Chiatari.

He told her about SHIELD and Hydra.

She listened and cursed as he tried to explain the Winter Soldier program and Bucky. The death of the Stark’s and the Avengers end.

He skimmed over Ultron and Sokovia before struggling to explain Thanos and how Bruce bought back the world but they lost Natasha and Tony in the process.

When his story was finished he dried his eyes, his body aching with exhaustion as he looked up at her.

She reached out with shaking fingers and picked up the Time Navigator and let it lay in the palm of her hand. There was no denying that it didn’t belong here, the technology was something that Howard could only dream of. But it backed up Steve’s story.

Slowly, she looked up from the device at him.

“It’s been eighty three years?” she asked.

“I was only awake for thirteen of them,” Steve replied and she pressed her lips together.

“So,” she said softly. “Now what?”

Steve met her gaze with a tired determination and said, “I’m going to fix things.”

“How?” she asked. “Where do we start?”

“I have a list of Hydra bases that Bucky was held at. I’m going to take them down and find him,” Steve said, then hesitated. “Peggy, where I come from, you had a husband and kids. You never knew me again. If you do this, that’d never happen.”

Peggy was silent for a moment, her finger tracing over the screen on the Time Navigator absently and Steve focussed on the motion, not wanting to see the look on her face when she walked away.

“Okay,” she said instead, looking back up at him. “That was the Peggy in that timeline, with those circumstances. That Peggy still had that life. I don’t want that. If I choose that, pretend this never happened then Hydra grows, people die, James gets tortured and I—we lose you all over again. No hypothetical future is worth that. Not if we can stop it.”

“I just thought-”

“I know,” she said before abruptly standing up. She set the Time Navigator back on the coffee table and slid a notebook towards him. “Now, if you’re done second guessing my decisions make a list of all the Hydra bases and Agents you know about. I need tea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments and crazy theories are appreciated ♥  
> Find me at my Marvel tumblr [here?](http://karelinadean.tumblr.com/)


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